One Little, Two Little, Three Little Joes
by RRatedauthor
Summary: Cobra Commander is ticked off and he plans to take it out on the small band of Joes responsible. Can they band together before one of their own makes a catastrophic mistake? Marvel/OC Rated T for Slight Language and character death.
1. Dossier

CODE NAME: STRYKER

REAL NAME: STRYKER, ANDREW THOMAS

SN: 025-027-806

PRIMARY SPEC.: INTELLIGENCE

SECONDARY SPEC.: PSYCHIATRY

BIRTHPLACE: NEW YORK CITY

GRADE: E-3

The son of an accountant, Andrew was following in his father's footsteps, working for the Internal Revenue Service, when his entire family was wiped out when Cobra 'accidentally' bombed the church where his sister's wedding was being held. The only surviving family member was his brother Dan, who immediately moved to Canada to begin again. He's had minimal contact with his brother since enlisting.

The following day, Stryker turned his his briefcase for a rifle and his pinstripes for fatigues.

Since joining G.I. Joe, Stryker has steadily worked his way up, gaining the trust of everyone from Hawk and Duke down to lowest of the grunts. This trust led to his two current assignments. The head of their newly-formed Reconnaissance and Infiltration Corps (The Recon Squad) and that of the on-base counsellor. Everyone knows who to come to if they have a problem. Even with all these responsibilities, he still finds time to play bridge as well as being an avid golfer. He is also currently working on completing his PH. D. In his spare time.

He is fully trained in many small arms, but prefers the M-1911AT automatic pistol and the M-16 as his weapons of choice. He is also a second-degree black belt in both Karate and Kung-Fu and has had training in military intelligence, emergency medicine, and desert warfare.

Ask the other to describe him in one word and 'flexible' comes to mind. Whether it be his combat gear, his daily routine, or his battle strategies, no one is better at adaptation that Stryker as his near-perfect battle record shows. Rarely tasting defeat, when he does it only motivates him to work harder.

Provided under the Freedom of Information Act 2009


	2. In the Beginning

Chapter 1

It was a relatively quiet day for the G.I. Joe team. Cobra had retreated to lick their wounds after their last attempt at world domination had been foiled and Duke had given all the Joes involved some extra R and R. Stryker and Bazooka were enjoying a round of golf on the Joes' newly-built on-base course. Stryker had just tossed off his jacket in disgust when Bazooka, not the world's best golfer by any means, had made a two hundred yard hole-in-one.

"Fore!" Stryker yelled, stooping to pick up his jacket.

"You mean one, dontcha?" Bazooka asked

Stryker threw his coat toward his clubs and teed up his shot. It was perfect, but too hard. It went over the green, barbed-wire fence, the shooting range (where Cover-Girl took a shot at it), through the window of the mess hall and landed in Gung-Ho's pot of gumbo. The next ladleful of lunch had a little something extra in it, much to Ace's chagrin.

"I gotta play that." Stryker rushed in, daintily removed the golf ball from Ace's bowl, wiped it on his sleeve, and set it down on the floor and lined up his second shot.

Gung-Ho swore very loudly, using language that would make Sergeant Slaughter cover his ears.

"Dude," Stryker cracked a smile. "They ain't gonna print what you just said, so you might as well save it for another occasion."

During this exchange, there was another exchange involving a Cobra agent going on across the compound. He knocked out two of their guards, Mainframe, and a couple random computer technicians before copying a specific file and then leaving just as quickly. No one was aware of what had transpired until later, when Dial-Tone went in to relieve Main-Frame.

"Anybody get the license number of that bulldozer?" Main-Frame asked, groggily coming to.

"What bulldozer?" Stryker just happened to be passing by, his round of golf concluded.

"It felt like a bulldozer hit me. Whatever it was, they must've wanted something on the computer. I won't know exactly until I check the master file."

"Take him to the infirmary. I'll see what I can did up." Before Main-Frame was even out of sight, Stryker had retrieved the information he was looking for.

"He hacked the Recon Log." Stryker announced "He copied my personnel file as well as those of Blow Torch, Cutter, Dial-Tone, Flash, and Gung-Ho."

"What would they want with our personnel records?" Cutter asked. He had heard his name mentioned as was putting in an appearance to find out what he was going to be blamed for.

"Who knows why Cobra does anything?" Dial-Tone replied

"Who cares?" Gung-Ho grumbled "They've pulled this crap once before and providing they don't blow me up any time soon, they can have it."

"Knowin' Cobra, that's exactly what they might plan to do." Stryker joked "But I digress. Dial-Tone and I will scan the entire mainframe and let you know if it is Recon based, or if it's just coincidence."

In a matter of seconds, the area was deserted, save for Dial-Tone, Stryker, and a new pair of guards.

In the barracks, Blow Torch was working on his latest hobby: models. But not model ships, or planes, he dealt in model Joes. He was building ten inch miniatures of all the G.I. Joe team, past and present, based on recent photography. He was planning to present them to everyone during the holidays. He had just finished Gung-Ho; getting the tattoo and mustache just right had proved to be a lot trickier than he'd originally thought, and he was just about to start the biggest challenge... Snake-Eyes. The ninja was adept at avoiding cameras and there were very few photos available for him to work from. Once he'd finished Snake-Eyes, the last Joe was Stryker, he being the newest addition to the Joe team.

Back in the computer room at base Alpha-Charlie-Delta, Dial-Tone and Stryker were working feverishly to determine whether or not there was a specific reason that Cobra had broken into the personnel records of the members of their recon squad, or if it was just because that was the active file at the time.

"Why did you have the recon file up anyway?" Stryker asked Main-Frame when he popped in after being quickly examined by Life-Line.

"Just doing routine updates, yours in particular." He replied

"Yeah. I figured you would be." Stryker grunted, scanning the duty logs and mission rosters going back to the first of the year.

"Sorry to hear about your brother. Policy dictates that we remove him from the emergency contact list." Main-Frame patted him on the back. Stryker cringed at the unnecessary contact.

"That was my emergency contact list. Even though we haven't talked much for years, he was the last family I had."

"That's too bad." Main-Frame, as well everyone on base, knew Stryker's back story.

"So, that brings up a question... what happens to my estate if something happens to me?"

"I dunno. Maybe ask Hawk or Duke, or talk to legal about that? Someone there should know."

"And if not, I'll just hope I get married before the inevitable happens." Stryker answered _When did being a Joe become so damn complicated?_

The computer beeped and several lines of text scrolled down the screen. "I was right. It was recon." He mumbled

"What was that?" Dial-Tone looked over from his computer terminal.

Stryker turned his monitor so both Dial-Tone and Main-Frame could have a look. "I know what I have to do."

"As it turned out," Stryker addressed the entire Joe roster; a first for him, "there was a very simple reason why Cobra copied the files they did. The six of us are the surviving members of the squad that handed Cobra their biggest defeat in history..."

"You mean than thing in Mongolia?" Stalker asked

"Yes. That 'thing in Mongolia', as you put it, cost Cobra millions in weapons and personnel and it looks like they're coming back for a little revenge." Thankfully, Stryker realized that he hadn't replaced Breaker, Doc, and Quick-Kick after they had been killed in Trucial Abysmia, or they would most likely be targeted as well. "Brief summary... Cobra had been supplying arms and men to the Mongolian army, hoping to build them up enough to conquer China and Russia and create a Cobra-controlled superpower. But my guys had a little something to say about that..."

"What do you need from us?" Lady Jaye asked

"Protection, right now. Until we figure out exactly what Cobra's plans are, I would suggest that the six are not left alone any more than necessary. I would also like..."

On cue, Shipwreck burst into the conference hall, out of breath and slightly singed. "Sorry I'm late."

"You better have a good explanation." Hawk boomed "When I say 'all Joes', I mean 'all Joes'!"

"Flash is dead. We were running over from the mess when a Techno-viper ambushed us. He killed Flash and split. I'm lucky that..."

"How the hell did a Cobra Techno-viper get past the guards?" Hawk thundered "I want name and rank of whomever was asleep at their post!"

"Strike that... the five are not let alone any more than necessary. Would Blow Torch, Cutter, Dial-Tone, and Gung-Ho stay back afterward?" Stryker already had a nervous feeling about how this might end up. "That's all I got, boss."

"Then we're dismissed." Hawk stated, then turned to one of his assistants. "Get me a duty roster..."

"Could you make it fast?" Blow-Torch did not like neither the idea of being a target, nor being kept behind. "I'm almost finished Snake-Eyes' paint job."

"Huh?" Dial-Tone asked

"Never mind." Blow Torch didn't want to spoil the surprise any more than necessary. "You had to be there."

"Okay, here's what I had in mind. You folks do realize that there is a good chance that Cobra's gonna try to pick us off one by one. Just look what happened to Flash. So my idea is that we should cover each other's backs on this one."

"I don't get it!" Gung-Ho griped "Why...?"

"Let me put it another way." Stryker stated "Vous gens realisent ce Cobra vs d'essayer de pioche nous d'un par un. Le regard juste ce qui arrivait a Flash..."

"I understood that part, you dimwit!" Gung-Ho shouted

"Well, what part of that didn't you understand? I thought it was pretty straight forward." Stryker shot back, temporarily losing his cool.

"Why we need you to tell us something we don't already know."

Stryker shrugged. Gung-Ho's bluntness was one of the reasons he'd been hand-picked for the squad. "I don't wanna die... any body here want to?"

No one answered aloud. They all stared at Gung-Ho; eventually the Cajun backed down.

"What's your plan, then?" Gung-Ho knew he was outnumbered and had the common sense to acquiesce.

"That's it. Odds are Cobra's not going to be dumb enough to attack us as a group."

"Works for me, sir." Cutter responded "I just don't want you guys following me to the latrine."

"Me neither." Stryker answered "Duke's got nothing for us right now, so you're all dismissed."

That broke the room. Stryker left the others and went to Duke's office. He rapped on the door and received a curt "Enter".

"Just the Joe I was looking for. Sorry to hear about Flash."

"He was a good kid, that's for sure. I didn't see you at the briefing." Stryker remained standing in deference to his C.O.

"Paperwork." Duke pointed to a pile of stuff on his desk.

"The day to day detritus of being a higher-up. Now you know why I've refused any further promotions." Stryker answered "May I sit?"

"Always." Duke signed some random form and pushed it aside. "What's on your mind?"

"After what just happened, I got to thinking... where does my estate go if something happens to me?"

"Don't you have a will already?" Duke asked

"I do, but my sole beneficiary just got killed." Stryker stared at his feet as he spoke. "Cobra finished off what they started with the church. Apparently, they thought he was me."

"I can see why. You two did look a lot alike. You need time off?"

"That was part two of my question."

"Well, take whatever time you need to straighten things out and, if you don't name another beneficiary, it'll probably get auctioned off to pay estate taxes and stuff. I'm not really clear on how it works myself." Duke answered

"Thanks, sir." Stryker mentally made a note to make friends with some of the other Joes so he could justify giving one of them his estate.

"Anything else you need, let me know. I'm sure we can accommodate."

"Thank-you again, sir." Stryker saluted "I'll be hitting the road tonight."

Returning to his barracks and packing for the trip didn't take long at all. It would've taken even less time if he didn't have to stop every five minutes to talk to one of the Joes. The news had spread across the compound rather quickly and almost everybody stopped by to see if there was anything they could do. They'd met Stryker's brother many times in the past, some of which had lead to cases of mistaken identity. Once the last well-wisher had left, he shouldered his kit and walked off the base to catch a flight to Toronto to start funeral preparations.

On his way to the airport, whistling a snatch from a Nickleback song that had been receiving way too much airplay for his own taste, he heard the telltale sound of gunfire from above. He flattened himself onto the ground as a Rattler passed overhead.

"Sitting duck." Stryker muttered, rolling toward some nearby bushes hoping they would give him at least some cover in case the plane decided to fly by again.

"If anyone is reading this, I'm pinned down about a mile from the base. Cobra Rattler's doin' a little aerial, if you understand me. I could use a little help." Stryker shouted over the sonic boom.

When the Cobra jet passed by for another run and why they were attacking this close to a known Joe base was unknown, Stryker fired a few shots from his M-16. One of them hit the plane's fuel tank and it wavered in the air before crashing just beyond the horizon.

"Update. Cobra plane shot down about two miles due east. Am going to investigate... still require back-up. Stryker out."

Leaving his rifle and bag in a nearby clump of bushes, Stryker sprinted toward where he'd witnessed the plane go down. Climbing over one last hill, he scanned the area, but he was in for a rude awakening. There was no debris! He stood there, his astonishment overriding his common sense that told him to find some cover before he was seen, until he realized that he wasn't alone. Mistakenly, he assumed it was his team.

"What took you so long?" He joked, swinging around. Instead of the friendly faces of his fellow Joes, he was nose-to-grill with a dozen or so Cobra vipers.

"You vill come vith us!" Their helmets made the one doing the speaking sound Russian.

"Not my day." Stryker obediently dropped his pistol on the ground and allowed himself to be prodded toward the plane. As they neared the plane, he pretended to trip which gave him time to strip off his dogtags and leave them in the dirt as a clue to the rest of the team, whom he hoped were on their way.

Stryker inwardly laughed for falling for the old 'fake the crash and double back' trick... one his own Recon Squad had used many times on Cobra.

"Learning from the best, eh?" Stryker laughed

"Shut it." One of the guards smacked him across the face with his sidearm. "If you want to remain in one piece."

_Author's Note_

_Homeland Security Laws of the United States prohibit me from disclosing exactly how they arrived at their location._

He was brought before Cobra Commander, who seemed either real excited about the capture or real surprised that his troops did something right for a change.

"Well, well, well." He hissed, "what have we here?"

"Cut the crap!" Stryker shouted "If you're going to get rid of me, just do it. I really don't feel like shooting the bull with you."

"Get rid of you? On the contrary, you are much more valuable to us alive."

"Meaning what?" Stryker refused to be used as bait and wasn't above going Kamikaze to make his point.

"Meaning I have a proposition for you. I want you to join us. We will pay handsomely for Joe secrets."

"How handsomely?" Stryker asked

The Commander got off his throne and walked down to where Stryker was being held by two of his men. Whispering something into his ear, he waited for a response to his words.

Unfortunately, dollar signs soon overrode Stryker's common sense. "Where do I sign?" he laughed


	3. Mission Almost Impossible

Around the same time that Stryker was agreeing to violate several anti-terrorism statutes for what amounted to Alex Rodriguez' per-game salary playing for the New York Yankees, the remaining members of the recon team, with Duke taking lead, had arrived. No sign of Stryker, or the plane he'd claimed to have shot down, which seemed to suggest one thing.

"Based on what Stryker said at the briefing, I'm sure this is linked to Flash's death and I feel like I'm gonna play right into Cobra's hands by doing this, but there's a reason Stryker hand-picked you four." Duke rubbed the back of his neck, hating what he was about to do but doing it nonetheless. "You know where the headquarters is. Either get Stryker outta there or find out where he's bein' kept, I don't care which."

"Yes, sir." Cutter saluted

Two Jeeps drove off, leaving Duke alone in the desert. "If Cobra breaks him, we're all in deep."

It was really easy to decide where the most likely choice of hideout for Cobra, and assuming that Stryker was being held captive, would be. The Extensive Enterprises Building in New York had been destroyed during the terror attacks of 2001 and had not been rebuilt, so that made it pretty easy to figure out where Cobra was running things from.

Arriving at the Cobra fortress, the foursome quickly decided that the best way to get inside was to split into two pairs and each cover half the terrain. Cutter and Dial-Tone went east and Blow-Torch and Gung-Ho went west, with instructions to radio the other pair if they found a way in. Other than that, it was radio silence. All was going according to plan until Gung-Ho took flight thanks to an explosion almost directly behind him.

"What the hell was that?" His fall broken by several bushes, Gung-Ho wasn't hurt as badly as he could have been. Of Blow-Torch, however, there was no sign. He'd been trailing behind and it seemed like he had stepped on something causing the explosion. This was confirmed when it started raining body parts. A severed arm, the fingers still twitching spasmodically, dropped right in front of him and that was all it took for his lunch to come back up. Gung-Ho leaned into the nearest shrubbery and heaved.

Once he'd wiped his mouth on a leaf, he reached for his radio. Forget radio silence, the others needed to know.

"We got a problem." He gut-whispered

"What?" Cutter responded "It better be big."

"It is..." Gung-Ho wheeled around when he felt another presence nearby. He squawked in surprise when he saw Blow-Torch, in one piece, standing not five feet away.

"Gung-Ho? What was that? I didn't copy." Cutter said

"Lemme get back to ya." Gung-Ho put his radio away. "Just what the hell were you thinking?"

"I gotcha good." Blow-Torch laughed

"You didn't answer my question, Meat. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was just tryin' to liven up the mission. With Stryker not here, I finally got my chance."

Gung-Ho slugged him, knocking him onto his butt. "If some Cobra patrol heard that, we're not gonna have a whole lotta time to have this little chat. Once this is over, I'm reporting you to Duke, Stryker, and anybody else who will listen."

"Yeah, right!" Blow-Torch taunted him, "You're letting this second-in-command nonsense go to your head."

"Try me. One more slip-up and you will be on permanent latrine duty for the rest of your stay with the Joes. Which won't be very long, I guaran-damn-tee it." Gung-Ho resumed his trek, trying to put Blow-Torch's little stunt behind him and focus on their task at hand: finding a way inside.

On the other side of the compound, Cutter and Dial-Tone's luck with finding a way in had met with similar success, and Cutter's interaction with Gung-Ho aside, they were starting to wonder if this was going to end up as just another dull search-and-rescue-mission.

"What did Gung-Ho want?" Dial-Tone asked

"Dunno. He said something big had happened, but went silent before I could find out what it was." Cutter replied. The boom, sounding like thunder, had put both of them on alert, but neither man had made the connection.

"Why do these missions seem a lot easier when Stryker is running them?" Dial-Tone mopped the sweat from his forehead.

"Because he knows what he is doing a lot more than some other members of the team?" Cutter answered, resting his weight on a weed-encrusted gargoyle nearby. To his surprise, it moved slightly, opening a secret door in the wall just enough for the two Joes to notice.

"This could be the way in we're looking for." Dial-Tone advanced forward.

"Probably is. Let's get this thing open and see what happens." Cutter stepped toward the door.

"At ease, dude." Dial-Tone grabbed a small box off his comm pack. "Don't want you to get blown up too early, now do we?" Using the portable scanner, he checked the area for any hidden beams. He found several criss-crossing the door frame. "There's gotta be a main one somewhere." He followed each beam to it's source, but couldn't tell if there was a main control somewhere or if they were on individual circuits.

"May I?" Cutter stepped forward, a large stick in his hand.

"Go ahead." Dial-Tone stepped back.

Cutter penetrated one of the beams with the stick he'd found and two things happened. One was that all the beams shut off, but the second was a large trap door in the forest floor opened up.

"Reset switch." Cutter tossed the stick down the hole and eased around it. The crack in the door was enough for him to get his fingers inside, but leverage was a problem.

"Damn." Cutter groaned

"Need help?" Dial-Tone asked

"Can't get enough of a grip to move this thing. Gimme a hand."

"No problem." Dial-Tone pulled a laser cutter from his belt and used it to blast enough of the rock wall away to allow both of them space to get the door open. It was totally dark inside, the only immediate light was coming in from outside until Cutter switched on his keylight. They found themselves in a corridor, leading to where they couldn't see right away.

"Just follow me." Cutter alternately panned the light across the walls, ceiling, and floor, hoping to find some clue that would let them know they were on the right track. Further down, his beam glinted off something shiny on the floor. Always impetuous, Dial-Tone rushed ahead to examine it.

"At least we're on the right track." Dial-Tone exclaimed, turning the object over in his hands. "It's Stryker's watch... nice!"

"Never mind the appraisal. We've got a job to do." Cutter interrupted

Stuffing it into his pocket, Dial-Tone followed Cutter down the passageway, continuing to look for their captured leader. Any chance of this being easy were squashed when they heard voices coming towards them.

"Cobras." Cutter whispered, shutting his light.

"In here." Dial-Tone pointed to a nearby alcove. There was just enough room for the two of them to squeeze in and not be seen from the main passageway.

"When they pass, we jump them." Cutter whispered

"Hopefully soon. Nothing personal, but I'd rather keep our relationship strictly business and these close quarters ain't doin' it for me." Dial-Tone answered, silently reaching for his sidearm.

"Haven't you heard of 'don't ask, don't tell'?" Cutter retorted

"Go back to coaching the women's swim team." Dial-Tone shifted position, inadvertently brushing against Cutter.

"Now who's getting personal?" Cutter also reached for his gun. "Sheesh..."

They fell silent when a flashlight beam penetrated the darkness inches from their hiding place.

Dial-Tone tapped Cutter on the shoulder. He nodded, counting down from five on his hand. On 'zero', they pounced. During their scuffle, it became painfully obvious that they weren't fighting the usual Cobra lackies. Dial-Tone flicked on his flashlight, revealing that their 'enemies' were the other two members of the Recon squad.

"What the... ow!" Blow-Torch's fist connected with his jaw. "Dammit, Blow-Torch, it's me... Dial-Tone!"

"Dial-Tone? What the hell?" Blow-Torch pulled his punch at the last moment so he wouldn't hurt his fellow Joe again. Nearby, Cutter and Gung-Ho also stopped rolling around.

"How did you two get here?" Dial-Tone asked, wiping a smear of blood from his lip with the back of his glove.

"We found a way in from the other side." Blow-Torch answered "Some Gargoyle thing."

"Same with us." Cutter replied

"Well. We came from this way and you came from there and we haven't found the boss yet... which way now?"

"We passed a cross tunnel about five minutes ago. That was our play: to double back if we didn't find anything."

"Works for me."

"Let's move." Gung-Ho asserted his authority as de facto leader. He had no idea how long he'd have the role so he was determined to use it as much as he could. "Since we know where this thing is, Torch and I will lead."

Cutter and Dial-Tone looked at each other, the same thought running through their minds... "_I can't wait until Stryker comes back._"

They found the tunnel and followed it until it exited into an open space that looked like some sort of communal gathering place. It looked deserted.

"So far, so good." Gung-Ho whispered

"Cobra!!!!!!"

"Spoke too soon." Cutter jerked his head as several Cobra Vipers rushed in, setting the ambush.

"Joes! Battle formation Alpha!" Dial-Tone shouted

"What in tarnation are you talking about?" Gung-Ho demanded

"Recon Handbook chapter 24... battle formation close quarter attacks." Dial-Tone shouted

"You read that thing?" Gung-Ho asked

"It was required reading. Hell, yeah."

"I didn't know if Stryker was being serious or not." Gung-Ho admitted "Come on... Chapter two... How to Pick up Members of the Secretarial Pool and What Not to do in the Officers' Mess?"

"That was his introduction to small arms combat techniques... never mind. Battle Formation Alpha... pick an area and defend it."

If the Cobra soldiers had been smart, they would've attacked while Gung-Ho and Dial-Tone were discussing night table reading, but instead they waited until after the four Joes had formed a diamond shape, with backs to each other, before they initiated combat. Dumb, dumb, and really dumb.

Within minutes, the Cobra Vipers were incapacitated, which is a nice way of saying dead and/or seriously wounded. The Joes emerged from the battle, having only two minor wounds: one to Gung-Ho's arm and one to Dial-Tone's wrist.

"Let's move." Gung-Ho lead the team out the other side and into another long corridor. This one had one of those 'you are here' maps with directions showing the directions to everything from the Dungeon and barracks to the Commander's quarters, to the armory and bowling alley.

"Dungeons are left... let's go." Cutter pointed to the map.

"I hate to disagree. I say right." Dial-Tone interjected

"And just why would we do that?" Gung-Ho felt his authority disappearing, so he decided to put Dial-Tone on the spot.

"Haven't you ever read Stryker's personnel file?" Dial-Tone answered

"And just how the hell would I have access to that?" Gun-Ho folded his arms and glared at his subordinate.

"Bowling alley." Dial-Tone tapped the map. "He loves to bowl."

Gung-Ho slapped his forehead, trying hard not to lose what little cool he had. "If he liked to play video games, he'd go to Cobra Commander's quarters, is that your logic?"

"Of course not. Now, if it were Main-Frame..."

"Jesus H. Christ on a pony." Gung-Ho interrupted "Until we find Stryker, I am in charge of this team and we are going to the dungeon. Anyone have a problem with that?"

Silence. Not even Blow-Torch had a witty reply.

"I thought not... move out, Joes." Gung-Ho waved them forward. While Dial-Tone's idea had some logic to it, ultimately Gung-Ho was right. They found Stryker in one of the cells.

"We found him!" Cutter exclaimed

"Don't sound so surprised." Stryker retorted "Where'd you expect to find me... the bowling alley?"

Dial-Tone shrugged.

"You gonna stand there gawking or are you gonna get me the hell outta here?" Stryker asked

"Step back." Cutter blasted the lock with his pistol. It fell to the floor with a clang.

"That's Cobra for you... for all their assets, they're still in the eighteenth century when it comes to keeping POW's out of the way." Stryker kicked the door open. "It makes me wonder why they even bother."

"Shall we get outta here?" Gung-Ho said

"Yeah, let's... I guess I missed my flight." Stryker clapped his wrist. "Damn!"

"Looking for this?" Dial-Tone pulled Stryker's watch from his pocket.

"You found it? Awesome!" Stryker put it back on. "Just as I thought... plane took off ten minutes ago."

"Ahem." Gung-Ho was getting impatient, but with their chief back he couldn't exactly start barking orders anymore.

"I think our Cajun friend is getting a little antsy... let's get the aitche out of here." Stryker said "Lead on and hope we ain't spotted."

"Yeah... we may have to use battle formation again." Dial-Tone smirked

Gung-Ho blushed.

"I missed something, right?" Stryker asked

"Well..."

"Tell me later. Let's just move before we're dis..." Stryker was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps, quick-marching it in their direction.

"Uh-oh."


	4. One Step Forward

Stryker held up his hand for quiet while he listened, trying to determine which direction the sounds of feet were coming from.

"Quick, one of you give me your rifle."

"What're you thinking?" Blow Torch reluctantly handed over his weapon.

"They don't know I'm outta my cell." Stryker replied "When I say duck, you duck. Got it?"

They nodded, knowing without being told further what the plan was. Stryker stepped out of the line of sight moments before half a dozen members of the Crimson Guard caught sight of the other four Joes.

"All right, Joes. In the name of Cobra Commander, we arrest you. Hand over your weapons on the double!" Three of the nameless pointed their own weapons at the Joes while the fourth spoke.

"Now march!" Once all G.I. Joe arms were safely in the hands of the Cobra troops, they herded them toward the cells, and unfortunately for them, away from where Stryker hid. He gave them a ten count to get some distance, then he stepped out from hiding.

"Duck!" He shouted

The Joes dropped and Stryker sprayed the area with gunfire. In less than a minute, he had emptied the clip into the four Crimson Guardsmen, who were very nicely dead.

"Why don't they ever learn?" Stryker ejected the spent clip from the rifle. "You guys can stand up, now."

Cutter and company got to their feet. "Nice shootin', boss." Gung-Ho prodded one of the dead soldiers with his boot to make sure that he was really dead.

"This is getting too easy." Stryker tossed the rifle back to Blow Torch for reloading. "You'd think by now someone would've told them not to turn their backs on G.I. Joe..."

"Especially when they think they have us captured." Dial-Tone surveyed the damage, sniffing loudly at the smell of charred flesh.

"That's when we're at our most dangerous. We have nothing to lose." Stryker answered "Which one of you fine gentlemen is going to show me the way out before I have to put Plan B into action."

"This way." Gung-Ho lead them back out into the jungle and to their vehicle.

Back at the base, they reported to Duke.

"Mission accomplished." Gung-Ho proudly announced.

"Like I expected any less." Duke leaned back in his chair and stared at them. "You're dismissed... Stryker could you stick around for a while?"

"Yes, sir."

Duke waited for the other four Joes to leave before motioning for Stryker to take a seat. "Is the plan set?"

"Just gotta work out a few minor kinks." Stryker answered

"Just wait until Cobra Commander figures out that he's playing right into Joe hands." Duke smiled, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"The sooner we break Cobra, the better. They've been a pain in my ass for far too long." Stryker answered "You still got detail on the guys just in case?"

"Eight of my best men." Duke answered "Just say the word and I'll double it if you don't think it's enough."

"I'm happy if you are." Stryker responded "Anything else?"

"Nope. You're dismissed... big night?"

"Nah. Too much junk thrown at me today. I need a few hours of down time to digest." Stryker answered

"Don't forget you have patrol at 24 hundred hours." Duke informed him. Stryker groaned.

"Sir, I'm running the recon force. Explain to me why I have to take guard duty like one of the grunts as well?"

"I'm not asking you to go anything that I myself don't do." Duke answered "But I see your point. I'll bring it up with Hawk next chance I get."

"Send someone to get me at 23 hundred 30 hours."

Duke nodded.

Stryker returned to his barracks, stripped out of his dirt-covered fatigues, and stretched out on his bed, listening to his Ipod. There was something soothing about listening to Guns 'N Roses and Stryker soon felt all the day's stress melt away and sleep coming to claim him.

His dreams, however, were not nearly as tranquil. This was one of his more disturbing ones. Up until last night, it was only Breaker, Quick-Kick and Doc talking to him, but tonight's had an expanded cast of characters. In addition to that threesome, Flash was with them. There was a fifth man as well, but his back was to Stryker.

_Turn around... c'mon... I need to know..._

As his wish was coming true, and the unknown man was turning around, Stryker felt himself being pulled back in the land of the living.

"... Stryker, Stryker... Boss, wake up!" Cutter was shaking him.

"Is it time already?" Stryker moaned, not fully awake despite the shaking.

"It's 21 hundred hours." Cutter told him.

"I told Duke not to send... what happened?" The fact that he'd been awakened two and a half hours early sent his senses into alert mode.

"You didn't hear the shot?" Cutter stared "You must've really been outta it."

"Probably." Stryker opened his eyes, but shut them immediately when he saw how bright the room was. "What shot?"

Cutter stared at his shoes.

"Cutter..." Stryker warned, "talk to me."

"They got Dial-Tone." He whispered

Stryker's jaw dropped. "How?" He whispered "Duke told me he had..."

"Took out his guards as well. Shot him point-blank through the heart while he was on duty. He was dead before we heard the shot, according to Life-Line." Cutter answered

"What about the others?"

"Blow Torch and Gung-Ho are accounted for. Duke figured whoever is responsible didn't want to risk discovery."

"You mean no one knows who did it?" Stryker massaged his forehead. "What the hell!"

"Duke's doubled the guards and put the perimeter on alert..."

"Like that's really gonna help! Christ, we're down to four and if Joes keep getting shot in their beds, there won't be a recon squad left by the end of the week!" Stryker shouted

"There's nothing I can do about that."

"Sorry, Cut-man, I really don't need to be taking this out on you." Stryker swung his legs over the side of his bed. "Could you pass me my fatigues. I need some air."

"Is that smart?" Cutter asked

"You just told me Duke's doubled the guards and put the perimeter on alert. Cobra isn't dumb enough to risk another attack this close. Top drawer."

"Anything else?" Cutter asked, handing over a fresh set of clothes.

"Yeah... can you turn that bleepin' light off." Stryker shaded his eyes again.

"I'll be in the hall." Cutter flipped off the overheads on his way out the door.

"Goddammit!" Stryker shouted, hastily dressing and grabbing his pistol from atop his dresser. "Sonofabitch!"

The guards outside his door, looked at each other.

"Can you blame him?" Cutter looked at them both. "First his brother and now Flash and Dial-Tone. I wish there was something I could do for him."

"Staying alive might be a good start, Sir."

Stryker threw his door open, and pushed past Cutter and the guards.

"Sir?" One of the grunts moved as if to follow him.

"Let him go." Cutter said "He'll be okay."

Stryker crossed the compound, muttering to himself, occasionally pausing to kick the tire of a parked vehicle. "That's low, even for Cobra." He reached the other side of the compound, near the docks where the Joes carried out some of their aquatic training and came across an unusual sight... Snake-Eyes maskless. Looking out over the sea, Snake-Eyes seemed to be intently scanning the horizon. Either he was waiting for sun up, which wouldn't happen for several hours, or he was doing some meditation mumbo-jumbo, Stryker didn't know and frankly, didn't care.

"Howdy." Stryker plopped down against a stack of wooden poles. "Waiting for someone?"

Snake-Eyes raised his left eyebrow, quizzically looking at the other man. "~~"

"Was that a yes or no? I never know with you."

Snake-Eyes resumed his watch.

"They say that we're the two easiest people to talk to on base. Since I don't feel like talking to myself, you up for a little listening?" Stryker asked

Snake-Eyes jumped from his perch and sat down beside Stryker. "Go ahead." He motioned with his hands.

"I'm sure you've already read me like a book, but here goes anyways. I've already lost my entire family and now the one constant that I have is being ripped apart. I dunno whether to be angry or what and you're the only one I know who's been anything remotely similar. I'd really like some advice right now." Stryker said

Snake-Eyes thought. He had gone through a similar family situation to Stryker, but he didn't think that his way of coping would work. Stryker was not into retreat, meditation, or anything like that. He tapped his thumb against his chin.

"Anything?" Stryker asked, looking dangerously close to snapping.

Snake-Eyes snapped his fingers and motioned for him to turn his back.

"Okay, but this better not be anything creepy." Stryker adjusted his position. "You know my opinion on guys touching me."

Snake-Eyes shrugged. A friendly hand was a friendly hand, and it shouldn't matter the gender of the person owning it. He pressed his thumbs against the bunch of nerves at the base of Stryker's neck and started gently working them in circles. It wouldn't help Stryker with his problems, but it might ease some of the tension inside him.

Stryker initially tensed up, but soon felt some of the tension begin to melt away beneath Snake-Eyes' talented fingers. Unfortunately, his consciousness also melted away and he fell back, head first, right into Snake-Eyes' lap.

Snake-Eyes rolled his eyes. This was not the first time someone had this particular reaction to his touches, but it was usually Scarlett passed out. Much more pleasurable, to say this least. He debated whether or not to carry Stryker back to his barracks, like he usually did with Scarlett, or just pour some cold water on his face. He decided to go with the water option since the likelihood of getting anything out of Stryker, other than a swift kick, was almost nil.

"What the..." Stryker spluttered "Why am I soaking wet?"

Snake-Eyes shrugged.

"That's the last time I let you lay a hand on me." Stryker flicked his wet hair out of his eyes. "God..." He stared at his wet clothes with a look of pure disgust .

Snake-Eyes shrugged again.

"Talk to you later." His combat boots filling with water, Stryker squelched back to his barracks. At the rate he was going through clothes, he'd need his own personal laundry service.

Snake-Eyes watched Stryker leave, then resumed his vigil.

After changing for the second time, Stryker stomped over to Duke's office. In spite of how late it was, he was still up, doing paperwork.

"Just the Joe I was looking for." Duke looked up.

"Seems like I'm popular." Stryker collapsed into a chair without waiting for an 'at ease'. "Half the world wants me dead and the other half is knocking me out and dousing me with water."

"I won't ask." Duke replied "So, does this change our plan?"

"Damned if I know, Sir." Stryker replied "Obviously someone didn't get the Commander's memo."

"Cobra Commander doesn't strike me as that kind of tyrant. I'm sure the fact that he thinks you're in his back pocket isn't changing his plans." Duke replied

"I figured that, but I hoped it would buy us some time." Stryker answer "All it's done has cost me another man."

"What do you suggest?" Duke asked

"I dunno." Stryker groaned "I need some time to think."

"Time is not something we have a whole lot of right now." Duke replied "I don't need to tell you that."

"We gotta break Cobra and fast." Stryker ran his fingers through his hair and shook the water from his fingers onto the carpet.

"I'm not willing to risk any more lives over this." Duke answered, folding his hands on his desk.

"Me neither." Stryker answered "I can't even begin to think about replacing the guys until after this is over."

"I don't know what else I can suggest." Duke replied

"Keep the guards and I'll figure something out. I'm gonna try to get a couple hours shut-eye before I'm on duty"

"You've got bigger problems than watching for enemy submarines." Duke answered "I'll get someone to cover."

"Thanks, sir. I do appreciate that."

"One last question... how soon does Cobra expect you to start producing?"

"Probably right away. They aren't the most patient people either."

"I'll see what I can pull for tomorrow. Dismissed."

Too tired to be concerned with protocol, Stryker dragged himself back to his room. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"I don't care what I have to do or who I have to go through, but Cobra is going down."


End file.
